


Building for the Future

by Bethann, Minniemoggie



Series: Legendary Friendship [14]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Relationships - Freeform, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minniemoggie/pseuds/Minniemoggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in the West is not as easy as it would seem at first.  Misunderstandings cause chaos</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In our alternate universe, elves come of age at age 1,000 years. Legolas is around 900 in this fic and is under the guardianship of Gimli. This story takes place AFTER the two of them have sailed to Valinor. To understand how their relationship began, you can read the first story of this series, Legendary Friendship

Fic: Building for the Future P1/4

Authors: Beth & Minnie

This story follows on from A Step into the Unknown and is one of our series of Gimli and Legolas tales, this one is also set on Tol Eressëa.

 

 

The past weeks have been such a whirlwind of excitement that I hardly have had time to stop and think about how things have changed since our arrival here in the undying lands.  When we first arrived it was difficult to find enough to do to fill our days here, but now there hardly seems to be enough time to accomplish all that needs doing.  Between exploring the new land and drawing plans for a house, I have been busy from dawn to dusk every day.  For the last few days we have even begun the process of gathering materials that will be needed to begin laying a foundation, so the prospect of making a real home here is beginning to seem like a real possibility. 

 

All the planning and working together puts me in mind of the year I spent in Ithilien helping to build up the colony there.  Many things have changed since then and yet some things stay the same.  Back then I was in my prime and able to work tirelessly where now, though I am hardly used up completely, I find myself doing more directing than I have done in times past.  Truthfully though I feel better and stronger than I have in many years and find physical labor comes easier than it did in the more recent past. So while I am not as young as I once was, I am certainly holding up.

 

Something that has not changed is that I still feel I need to always keep one eye on Legolas as we go about our work, for he still has a tendency to want to work without letup as long as there is something that needs doing, and with an enormous project like this one it will be a long time before we are finished.  Even now I remember Mam’s admonition to pay close attention to small problems so that they can be stopped before things get too out of hand. I am more concerned now even than I was back then simply for the  fact that the effects of fighting the sea longing along with the long treacherous sea journey has taken its toll on the lad, and while he seems to be improving each day, I do not wish for a set back at this juncture.  So I have had to continually remind him that taking things slowly may be frustrating, but it is a sight better than having to sit back and watch while others do the work.

 

  We have locked horns on more than one occasion already, but for the most part he has been willing to defer to my judgment in the matter. Likely because he knows me well enough by now to understand that there are some things I will not bend on and his health is of primary importance to me.  That is why today we find ourselves in residence in Lord Elrond’s house instead of helping in the work that continues in the new land as we have every day for the last three weeks.  When Legolas dragged in well after sunset last night looking thoroughly done in I decided that a day off was in order for both of us.

 

 He has been rather tight lipped with me this morning about that decision but that doesn’t worry me in the least for I have become immune to sulking elflings long ago.  Before long I expect he will be back with new tactics to change my mind so I must gird myself up to withstand the barrage of sweet talk that I know is coming my way for that is much harder to endure than all the complaining and pouting in the world.  I fully expect a battle between us before the day is out but this time I intend to prevail no matter what he throws at me, or how large his eyes become. 

 

In the meantime I plan to use my time alone to collect my thoughts and maybe write a log entry in the journal I have been keeping since we first arrived in this land. I intend to keep an accurate record of my experiences here so that when my time comes to go to my final rest, Legolas will be able to read it and recall our time together and know how much I cherished our time together in this place that no dwarf has experienced before me.  It has been some time since I’ve had the time to write anything in it and this may be my last opportunity for some time considering how busy we are just now.  I open the leather bound book and flip through the pages, only the first few with anything written on them.  All those blank pages seem to offer hope for many years of adventure to come.  I settle down to pen the next entry. 

 

#  

**Day 49 since our arrival:**

_The work on the new home continues to go smoothly and for that I am glad.  Lord Elrond has been an excellent host, but I for one shall be happy to have a home of my own again for living so long as a guest becomes tiresome for everyone involved._

_The last few days have for the first time put me in mind of our time back in Middle Earth when we worked together to build the colony in Ithilien. Remembering those times has me wondering about folks back in Middle Earth and thinking about what is taking place there. Do my people think of me often as I think of them?  Is there someone to tend the graves of Lord Gloin and Lady Vonild now that I am not there to see to it?  I always like to look forward, but today I cannot help wondering how my nephew, Greirr is faring taking care of our people and my beloved caves.  I shall never forget the thrill I felt the first time I saw the splendor of that place that was later to become home to me. How strange to think that I will never in this lifetime see another of my own kind or speak my mother tongue again, for while Legolas can speak passing Khuzdul, there really is no need for it here in this land of people not my own._

“Gimli!”

 

A cheerful voice interrupts my thoughts and I look up to see my elfling, not only no longer in a foul humor, but smiling sweetly and looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.  I suppress a smile as he kisses me on the cheek and places a cluster of bright red fruit in my hand, one of the many fruits that are new to us, but grow here in abundance.  It has quickly become a favorite of mine, something that has obviously not escaped the notice of my observant charge.  It is clear that he has an agenda and it is not hard to figure out what it is, but still I decide to play along at least for now.  I peel the red hull from one of the fruits to get to the white flesh underneath and then pop the whole thing in my mouth enjoying the sweet flavor.  A flavor no doubt meant to sweeten my mood and bend me to give in to his requests.

 

“Ah lovely,” I say enthusiastically, “and how thoughtful of ye to bring it to me, Lad.  I must say ye look much improved already.”

 

“Aye, I feel perfectly sound Elvellon,” he agrees, “This morning off has been very restful.”

 

“This is not a morning off, Elfling, but a _day_ off,” I remind him lightly. “It will not kill you to take one day of rest, I promise.”

 

“I know that, but we could at least ride out and see what is going on,” he coaxes sweetly, eyes getting larger by the second.  “We don’t have to actually do any work.”

 

“Sorry, but it isn’t possible. I already have plans for the whole day here.” I tell him and pick up my quill.

 

Eyelashes no longer batting in my direction, he looks at me through narrowed eyes instead. “I am capable of riding the short distance on my own you know, Dwarf.  I will just go by myself.”

 

“That ye will not,” I tell him firmly.  “We both know that ye’d no sooner be out of my sight than ye’d be back to working yourself into the ground and I won’t stand for that.  If ye do not wish to be kept back then think on and take more care when we go back next time, which _might_ be tomorrow if you behave yourself and rest.  Make up your mind to it, Lamb, we will both be spending the day right here.”

 

For a moment it looks as if his temper will flare in earnest, but he manages to suppress it and contents himself with a lusty sigh and a few choice words muttered under his breath, which I choose to ignore.  Truthfully I am quite pleased to see him so fired up and interested in something for it is proof to me that his health has already improved considerably.  I’d much rather deal with a foul temper than with the bleak despondency of before.  I do not say this of course, but just fix him with a stern look before turning back to my task.  Before I can do so I catch a glimpse of his crestfallen look and feel a bit sorry in spite of my best intentions not to, so I offer to make it up to him as best I can.

 

“I just remembered that I’ve not shown you the detailed plans I have drawn up that show a variety of possible roofing materials,” I tell him.  “I’d like to get your opinion on them,  wait here, I’ll be right back.”

 

He brightens noticeably at that no doubt pleased that if he cannot be working on the new dwelling, we can at least be talking about it.  I hurry to retrieve the plans from where I left them in the room that Lord Elrond has so kindly offered us to use as a drafting office.  I find them quickly and return to our chambers, where I expect to find Legolas waiting impatiently for me to return but it is not as I anticipated.  Instead he looks rather shaken and pale as if he has experienced some sudden shock.  Perhaps he is not as well as he would like me to believe after all.

 

“What is wrong, Lamb?”  I ask, trying not to sound too alarmed.  

 

He looks at me and attempts a smile that comes across more as a painful grimace.  “Nothing,” he tells me, clearly lying through his teeth.

 

“Right!” I growl. “Have we just met?  Do ye think I canna tell by now when something is amiss with ye?  It’s a good job we stayed back today for it is plain as day that ye need a break from so much activity.  Go on now, Elfling and lie down for a bit.  A nice long sleep might be just the thing to put ye right again. The plans can wait as well as not.”

 

I turn him toward his bedchamber and send him off with a light swat.  The fact that he doesn’t squabble with me about it further proves that it is just as I thought that all is not well.   I am hopeful, though, that a day of respite will be enough to set things right again. 

 

As soon as I am alone, I return to my journal and try to gather my thoughts again. 

 

XXXX

 

The sweet sounds of bird song greet me as I wake. The shutters of the windows are fastened back and a soft breeze stirs the gauzy curtains. Sunlight streams in and I lay back and enjoy the quiet of early morning. For a few moments I actually forget that I am on Tol Eressëa and think that I am still at home in my bed chamber in Ithilien.

The pain of that realization still stings but perhaps not quite as much as it did when we first arrived here on the Lonely Island. Do not get me wrong, my heart still aches for all I have lost all I have left behind, but I am trying to make the best of my new life. It is the least I can do given all that has been offered me by the Valar.

 

The euphoria of those first few days after Gimli and I rode out to look out over the new valley that has been created for the folk of the Greenwood has lessened somewhat but I will never forget the excitement we both felt, the hope that rose in my heart. I had worried over the fact that I would have little to do here, now I am wondering if I can cope with all that needs to be done. It seems I am never happy!

 

I lie still for a little longer luxuriating in the comforts that Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian have surrounded me with. I have found sleep easier to come by in the last weeks, mainly because I ensure I am physically exhausted before I seek my rest. That way I do not suffer night terrors and I wake refreshed. I know I am driving myself hard but it is better that way than spending all my days regretting all that I have lost and causing Gimli more distress. He has given up so much for me. I am aware how much I owe him. He has proved to be far more resilient than I. He has not repined nor voiced regrets for the choices he has made; rather he spends all his time in planning our future lives.

 

I stretch and yawn and finally clamber out of my bed and begin my morning’s ablutions. There is no need for haste today for Gimli has decreed that we are to have a ‘day off’ from our exertions. He is concerned that I am overdoing things and I know he has consulted with Lord Elrond over my health which has led the lord to demand my presence in his healing rooms on several occasions so that he may monitor my progress toward a full recovery from the exigencies of the sea longing and my melancholy over leaving Arda.

 

Lord Elrond prescribed lots of rest and good food, but he also advised that I be allowed to take a full part in the planning and preparations for the building of our new home in the valley of the elms. I have tried pointing this out to my anxious guardian but Gimli will not be gainsaid on this which is why I find myself this morning forced into taking a day of rest. He said that when I returned at sunset that I looked like something the cat had dragged in, scarcely complimentary but I have hopes that I can still change his mind this morning.

 

I find him with the rest of the household partaking of break of fast and I waste no time in attempting to get him to see sense. He is having none of it however and I am soon reduced to glowering at him from the other side of the breakfast table since all my arguments have been met with a flat refusal to listen and a comment that he is not going to be swayed by my ‘sulking’ as he so quaintly describes it.

 

I would have answered in kind, but Erestor stepped in and asked for my company for a walk in the gardens. I could see that he was only doing this to prevent a disagreement between Gimli and myself but he has always been a good friend to me so I acquiesced with his request and I admit to feeling better for a morning amongst the trees with little more to concern myself with than enjoying the company of my old friend and mentor.

 

We come back to the main house through the kitchen gardens and I spy some of the fruits that Gimli has swiftly become fond of, and decide that where argument may have failed perhaps gifts and smiles may succeed.

 

I find my friend writing in his journal and proffer him my gift, which he accepts with a huge smile. I begin to feel more confident about the success of my plans when he compliments me on how much better I look.

 

“I feel perfectly sound Elvellon,” I tell him, adding that the morning off has been very restful.

 

“This is not a morning off, Elfling, but a _day_ off,” he reminds me. “It will not kill you to take one day of rest, I promise.”

 

“I know that, but we could at least ride out and see what is going on,” I try coaxingly, “We don’t have to actually do any work.”

 

Gimli is unimpressed and tells me that he is busy and has plans for the rest of the day. Very well, that may be the case but that does not mean I must stay here with him. I can go alone and so I tell him.

 

“That ye will not,” he retorts.  “We both know that ye’d no sooner be out of my sight than ye’d be back to working yourself into the ground and I won’t stand for that.  If ye do not wish to be kept back then think on and take more care when we go back next time, which _might_ be tomorrow if you behave yourself and rest.  Make up your mind to it, Lamb, we will both be spending the day right here.”

 

It takes me all my time to rein in my temper at this flat statement of intent. I have to forcibly remind myself of all I owe my friend, and content myself with expressing my disagreement with his views with a few under the breath curses to do with the thick headed obstinacy of dwarves. I know Gimli overhears them but he chooses to ignore them at least for now.

 

Instead he turns back to his task but then looks up at me again and offers to let me look over the plans he has made for different roofing materials for the house. It is scarcely the same as going to the valley and getting my hands dirty but it is better than nothing so I agree to wait while he goes to collect them from the room he calls the drawing office.

I walk over to the window but looking outside only makes me more anxious to be outside doing something useful so I return to the desk where Gimli was working, thinking that mayhap I could find some parchment and begin to make a list of my own of questions I need to ask when I speak to the elves who are cutting the stone that we will be using for the main building.

 

I sit at the desk and begin to move Gimli’s journal to one side when my eye is caught by the last entry. It is wrong of me to read someone else’s private writings and I know it, but once I have seen the words 

 

_‘Do my people think of me often as I think of them?  Is there someone to tend the graves of Lord Gloin and Lady Vonild now that I am not there to see to it?’_

 

I cannot resist continuing to do so.  I find my hands beginning to shake, and my heart to sink,

_‘How strange to think that I will never in this lifetime see another of my own kind or speak my mother tongue again, for while Legolas can speak passing Khuzdul, there really is no need for it here in this land of people not my own. …’_

I am finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. My eyes fill with tears.  Ai, Gimli what have I done?

 

Hearing his return I move across the floor not wanting him to know what I have been doing, but my guilt must show for he demands to know what is wrong.

 

I attempt a smile and answer with the word, “Nothing,” but he is clearly unhappy with my reply for he growls, “Right! Do ye think I canna tell by now when something is amiss with ye? “

 

For a mercy he puts my anxiety down to my need for rest and orders that I retire to my bedchamber to take a nap.

I do not argue with him for should I remain he will no doubt swiftly inveigle the truth out of me and I do not wish to add to his unhappiness; or to admit that I have been reading what was obviously meant to be private. I do not need the light swat to the seat of my leggings to get me moving for I am anxious to be away from his far too knowing eyes and I need time to decide what I am to do about what I have just learned.

 

I close the door to my temporary bed chamber and lean back against the warm oak but today that close proximity to such wood gives me no comfort. I do not know where I will find comfort again. All the things I have placed to the back of my mind now flood my every thought. My selfishness, my neediness, has brought my friend to this pass. How can I ever make it up to him? I cannot.

 

 I stagger away from the door and sit on the edge of the bed, then fall into the mattress, and curl up into a fetal position, silencing my falling tears by burying my head into the pillows. Tears of course will not alter the situation but they are a release at least from the guilt.

All this time he has been hiding his pain and distress, offering his strength and support to me, listening to me wail and bemoan my fate while pretending that all was well with him and I, selfish and thoughtless as I am, have failed to see what was under my nose all of this time.

Poor, poor Gimli’ here I am in the paradise of the elves, with every expectation that I will be reunited with many of my friends and family at some time in the future and what has he to look forward to …

 

He has given up everything for me, turned his back on all he loved and cared for, left behind his family and his beloved caves and traveled across the seas to live among a race that are not his own, among some who still have the age old prejudices of my folk against the Naugrim.

 

I cover my head with my arms and squeeze my eyes closed but I cannot shut out the words that I saw written in Gimli’s own hand in his journal, words that say what he does not. They speak of his loss, his pain, his wish that he could see his family again save he cannot do so except through death.

 

What he has surrendered is almost beyond the limits of my understanding. What I do know is that I have to find some way to at least show him how much I appreciate the sacrifices that he has made for me. For now, I must make the pretense of sleeping for I hear the measured tread of dwarven feet coming towards my bed chamber and if he does not think I am asleep he will want to know the reason why.

I stretch out and deliberately relax my muscles, evening out my breathing, and allowing my eyes to become unfocused.

 

He tiptoes to the side of the bed and peers down at me, and it is all I can do not to fidget. He brushes my hair off my face and kisses my brow, before wishing me a restful sleep.  His sweet words just add to my guilt but I manage to keep still until I hear the door click closed behind him and I can refocus my eyes.

 

I now have an hour or so before Gimli returns to check on me again. In that time I must decide how I am to show him how much I appreciate what he has given up for me and just how I am to repay him in some small measure.

For some time I unable to do more than rail at myself for bringing Gimli to this place, but eventually I realize that while berating myself for my failings may give me temporary relief I am doing nothing to help Gimli.

But what can I do?

 

We cannot return to Arda. Even were I to petition the Valar for permission to try I doubt that either of us would survive the journey. Gimli has grown stronger since we arrived, but he is still old even for a dwarf and I would not put him through such an ordeal again unless we could be certain of success.

Even so before I reject it completely I will ask Erestor if anyone has ever made the return journey since the road was made straight. As a lore master he will be sure to know and as long as I am careful with my questioning, making it seem as if it is just a general inquiry I should not arouse suspicion.

 

I sit up and put my arms around my knees as I attempt to come up with something that will ease Gimli’s sorrow and loss at least a little. We cannot go home, he cannot go home … and then it hits me. I must do what he is trying to do for me, make him a new home, a home that has in it all a dwarven home would have, and do it as swiftly as possible.

 

To achieve it will mean I will have to work even harder than I have been doing, and do it in a fashion that does not arouse Gimli’s ire or his suspicions for he will not approve of my working longer hours.

So to achieve what I want I will have to carry out this extra work during the hours of darkness after Gimli has gone to his rest, and I will have to be certain he is asleep before I slip away. Not that, that should be difficult as his snores are loud enough to make the shutters of the house rattle.

 

What is more if I work on areas that are not under his direct supervision such as the preparation of timber and wood I should be safe enough from detection for despite all our years together he has never come to appreciate the art of working with wood and is unlikely to question how the various tasks have been completed more swiftly than expected.

I can work on cutting and smoothing the floor joists quite easily at night with the help of a lantern or two and whatever I can do to help expedite the building will bring us closer to our goal of a home of our own as quickly as possible.

 

Something else I would like to do and I hope will alleviate his unhappiness is to improve my fluency in Khuzdul so that I can speak in the language of his own people to my friend. That way he will still hear his own speech rather than Sindarin or Westron. I understand more than I can speak, but need to practice with someone who can converse with me and correct my grammar and accent and I know just the elf to do it. Erestor was the one who always led the trade negotiations with the dwarves in Imladris. I am certain he would welcome an opportunity to have me back in his clutches as a student. I will ask him about it when next I see him.

 

Feeling somewhat better for having come up with a plan, I actually relax a little and find myself drifting off into sleep, my last conscious thought being that Gimli at least will be pleased I am doing as I am bid for once.

 

xxxx

 

I quietly open Legolas’ bedchamber door and slip in as softy as I can so as not to awaken him. I find him still sleeping soundly, so I steal back out again. I have to say it is nice to find him doing as he is bid for once and without complaint or argument this time, though that in itself is a worry.

 

 Still I hope that this day of rest will be enough to prevent a setback for I would not like to have to tell him that he must stay back again tomorrow as well. I will do if I think it is necessary, but I know it would not be a pleasant task for he is anxious to be involved in every aspect of the planning and building of our new home.  It has been a real tonic to him to have something worthwhile to do and I continue to be optimistic that in time he will learn to be satisfied and happy with his new life here.  Truthfully I am hoping we will be able to return to our activities tomorrow not just for Legolas’ sake, but for mine also, for I too am anxious to see the progress that has been made in our absence and to get on with the project.  It is an enormous task we have set before us, but the future looks brighter than it has in a very long time and I could not be more pleased with the commission. I realize what an honor the Valar have blessed us with by giving us this land of our own to do with as we please.

 

 Now if I can get Legolas to embrace this life fully without killing himself in the process, everything will be ideal.  But that is the very reason I am here, so no matter how excited I am to sink my teeth into the work that needs to be done my first duty is to my elfling and I do not intend to sway in it.  I expect that as he settles in and puts down roots here, I will be able to relax my guard but for now I must be extra diligent.

 

For now I turn back to my earlier task of finishing my journal entry.  While I’m waiting for the pages to dry, I take out the plans for roofing materials and study them critically, trying to decide what the best options are for the climate here. I am so engrossed in my own thoughts that I do not hear the bedchamber door open, but I get the distinct feeling that I am being watched. From the corner of my eye I see that Legolas is eyeing me from the doorway with a peculiar expression on his face that clears up as soon as I actually look up at him.  I am just wondering what that is all about when he surprises me by greeting me in Khuzdul.

 

“Gamut manun ai-menu Uzbadu Men.”  Good day to you My Lord- I cannot help smiling at this very proper greeting. It is one that we practiced over and over together before he was to meet King Thorin for the first time, and one that is reserved for very formal occasions.  It is certainly never used between friends or family members and his accent is so thick that it makes it even more amusing.  My mother and sister always found his odd way of speaking the dwarven language completely adorable when he would try to take part in family conversations, though to his credit he could always at least understand most of what was being said.  Very few outsiders have been allowed to learn the secret language of my people, though there are a few exceptions.  I have heard that Lord Erestor has a passable knowledge of the language though I have never heard him speak it myself.  Legolas being considered a member of Lady Vonild’s clan was of course granted the right to learn it as well, but found it somewhat difficult as it is a complicated language and he rarely had need for it since my family was fluent in Westron.  Still he knows many dwarfish curses and insults and plenty of canned phrases, though why he has decided to bring them out now I haven’t the faintest idea.  Still I respond in kind with a more correct greeting for our relationship.

 

“Vemu, Ikhulum,” which loosely translated means ‘Greetings Elfling.”  Switching to common I ask, “Are ye feeling dwarfish today?”

 

“A bit perhaps,” he tells me and then nearly makes me fall out of my chair with laughter at his next speech. 

 

“Targ menu bundul gazaru,” he says, bowing politely.  It means ‘Your beard speaks of your wisdom’.   It is another phrase I taught him many years ago to help him sweet talk Mam out of a bad humor over some scrape he had gotten into with her.  It had worked smashingly of course, for she could never stay angry with him for long no matter what he managed to get into.  I start to ask what has gotten into him this afternoon, but decide that perhaps it is better just to let it go and be happy we aren’t arguing about how we will spend the rest of the day any more.  Before he can bring that up, I show him the plans that I had brought in earlier.

 

He looks at them briefly, but instead of sitting down with me and talking over our options as I had expected, he just tells me to choose whatever I like the best. Strange indeed since he has had something to say about every aspect of this project so far.  I am tempted to ask him about his odd behavior, but he hasn’t done anything that I can exactly put my finger on yet, so again I just let it go.  He then surprises me once again by telling me he wishes to seek out Lord Erestor for some kind of special tutoring.

 

“If it is all right with you of course, Elvellon,” he says.

 

“Who am I to stand in the way of Education?  Of course ye may seek him out,” I answer.   I am baffled for I know that while he is intelligent enough, he is hardly what I would call the most studious person in the world. 

 

Perhaps it is wrong of me to be suspicious, but we have been down many roads together and I have found that usually my hunches have been right over the years.  So while I say nothing-for really there is nothing to say right now-I remind myself to keep both eyes open for a while.  For now I will just enjoy the peace between us, and hope it lasts for a while. 

 

Legolas spends the rest of the day in the company of Lord Erestor.  I know this because in my distrustful state, I seek him out in the middle of the afternoon to make certain he is where he is supposed to be, though I attempt to make it seem as though I just happened along coincidentally and not for the purpose of checking up on him. I have no idea if he buys this or not, but it doesn’t worry me too much for it won’t hurt for him to know I am watching him.

 

All seems to be well and so I spend the rest of my day poring over the plans I have already drawn up, making adjustments here and there to fit in better with the materials we have available.  I don’t see Legolas again until evening meal, which we partake of with the rest of Elrond’s household.

 

 We return to our chambers together where we discuss what we hope to accomplish tomorrow when we return to work.  IF we return tomorrow, I remind him, which is something I will be deciding in the morning based on if I think he looks fit enough. I take this time to also point out that I will not hesitate to curtail any and all activities again if I think he is pushing himself too hard so he had best keep that in mind.

 

 He takes this admonition astonishingly well, even managing not to roll his eyes in exasperation.  This above all else has me suspicious that something is up, but I can hardly say anything about it.  I cannot exactly scold him for being fully cooperative and not arguing back about my warnings.  The idea is ludicrous, but that is what I feel like doing for it is not typical behavior at all.   Instead I bite my tongue and respond pleasantly when he bids me goodnight at a surprisingly early hour.  I busy myself with various tasks, but I am still wary that something is amiss, until I slip in to check on him an hour or so after he has gone to rest.  Seeing that he is sleeping soundly, I am finally able to relax enough to seek my own bed. 

 

I awaken at dawn fully expecting Legolas to be waiting impatiently for me to arise since he slept half of the morning yesterday and then went to rest earlier than usual last evening, so I am quite astounded to find that he is still sleeping deeply when I go to check on him.  I am of two minds about waking him up. On one hand I think it might be better just to let him sleep for he must be in need of it or he’d be up naturally by now.  On the other hand, I know he will be quite unhappy to miss out on another day in the valley.  Since I am anxious myself to be off, I decide to go ahead and wake him up and see if he seems fit for work today.

 

The task turns out to be more difficult than I had imagined.  When I stroke his cheek with one finger, instead of immediately waking up, he just rolls over and delves deeper into the pillows.  I give his shoulder a gentle shake, and this time he blinks several times before his eyes focus on me and he realizes what is going on.  I am on the verge of saying we had best stay back another day, when he leaps from the bed and assures me that all is well.  He gets ready to go out quickly, guaranteeing me over and over that he will take extra care and let me know if he needs to rest. 

 

I allow myself to be easily persuaded, for I too can hardly wait to get back to the job at hand.  I tell myself that I will just pay attention and that there is no reason we cannot return back at any time that I feel there is a need.  I gather the things I will need and we are on our way to the stables for the horses that have been kindly provided for our use while we are guests here at New Imladris.  We ride swiftly through the woods and over the hills and we are just sloping down into the valley, when Legolas informs me that he wishes to work with the crews that are preparing timber instead of with the stonecutters that I have been involved with.

 

To be perfectly honest I do not care for that idea at all, for that is a task that is not under my direct supervision and I do not like the idea of him being out of my sight for the entire day.  I realize that he has more of an affinity for working with wood than with stone, so it only makes sense that he would rather be involved in what he knows better and has more experience with. So while I understand it, I do not like it one bit.  I am much more comfortable with him in my line of vision, but I suppose it cannot always be so.  I nod in agreement to this idea albeit a little reluctantly.  I also remind him that I am capable of visiting the timber lots regularly so he had best think on and take care.  This time I finally get the eye roll that I have been expecting since last night and for some odd reason take some comfort in that little gesture. 

 

XXXX


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

Someone shaking my shoulder wakes me from my all too brief period of sleep; I blink up to see Gimli frowning down at me. While many believe that it is difficult to read a dwarf’s expression due to their beards, my long association with Gimli and his family have taught me to recognise their every mood and presently he is both perplexed and concerned.

I hurry to get out of bed and to give the impression that I am fit and well. Maybe it was not the wisest of things I have done to have gone out last night to the valley of the elms, but I so wanted to make a start on my plans to help my friend. I admit that I became so engrossed in marking and cutting the dovetail joints for the joists that I it was almost dawn before I got back to the New Homely House.

 

I am going to have to be better organized and keep a better watch on the time if my plan is to work. I dare not take one of the horses from the stables, yet it would be much easier for me to travel there and back if I had one.

I will have to think on the matter. There are wild horses in the hills. If I could persuade one or more of them to carry me to and from the valley it would give me more time to work on the site and I would not find it so tiring.

For now, I have to prove to Gimli that I am well enough for us to return to work so I pin a smile to my face and wheedle my way into his good graces by agreeing to all of his strictures and conditions although I do stand out for working with the woodworkers instead of with him and the stone masons.

 

I breathe a sigh of relief when he agrees with my request. I can see he is reluctant to let me beyond his sight and I understand his reasoning, so I promise I will return to share the noon repast with him and this seems to satisfy him at least for now.

 

When I reach the area where the woodworking is going on, it is already a hive of activity. Many elves have heard what we are doing here and have come to help us. Since some of them have lived here for considerable time they would likely be the ones to ask about the horses although once again I will have to be careful not to give away the real reason for my inquiries. I do not like being less than honest with others especially those I care about and who care for me, but it is a necessity presently and I will accept any consequences of my lack of honesty if and when the situation arises.

For now I have a morning full of work ahead of me.

 

The bell sounds for noon meal and I stretch tired muscles and go off to the stream to wash the worst of the sawdust off my person before I join Gimli for our meal.

He is waiting for me in our special place, a hill from which we can see the place in the valley where the house will stand. When we first stood here after Gimli had laid out all the pegs and strings I could not quite believe the size of the dwelling he had planned, but I have learned not to argue with him on matters of houses. I had enough trouble over that back in Ithilien. For a moment I feel the all too familiar ache in my heart at the memory of my beautiful home in Arda, but I shake off that pain by reminding myself of all that Gimli has given up for me.

 

And although I maintain that the house will be far too big for the two of us, Gimli has designed it so that we can move in as soon as one wing is completed.  The west side of the house will be finished first and it has kitchens, a bathing chamber and a variety of rooms that we can utilize for our own use while we wait for the rest of the house to be built. I can hardly wait and I know that Gimli will be happy to have me under his eyes as he calls it in our own home.

 

We eat and exchange idle talk of what we have both been doing, Gimli is happy with the way the foundations are going in and with the quality of the stone for building the main house itself. I let him talk and half close my eyes as I bask in the warmth of the sun.

 

“Laddie!”

 

My eyes fly open and I realize I have fallen asleep. “My apologies Gimli, I was day dreaming.”

 

“You were sleeping,” he retorts, pointing a stubby finger in my direction, “I knew it was too soon for ye to come back to work. Ye looked tired this morning. I should have listened to my brain instead of my heart and kept ye back at home another day.”

 

“It is not home!” I snap and immediately regret my outburst and hurry to apologize, “I am sorry elvellon, I did not mean that, it was very ungracious of me. I am very grateful to Lord Elrond and the Lady Celebrian for their kindness but I would rather we have a home of our own.”

 

I fear Gimli will be angry with me, and drop my chin to my chest and peek at him through my eyelashes to see how he will react but he pats my hand comfortingly and merely says, “Aye I understand lamb. I am as anxious as you to have somewhere to call our own with all our things about us. But we will not be getting it at the expense of your good health. I think you should go back to Imladris this afternoon and get some rest.”

 

He sees I am about to argue the need for this and puts up a hand to stay me. “You are exhausted, and ye will be doing yourself no favors to deny it.” He frowns at me and I recognize that to continue arguing will put my rear end at risk of a slap or two, so I clamp my lips closed as he continues to speak. Telling me that he does not intend to come with me, much as he would like to, but that as he is in the middle of cutting some corner stones for the main house and that he ‘doesn’a trust those fool elves to do it properly’ unless he is there to supervise.

 

It occurs to me while he is telling me this that this is a perfect opportunity for me to ride up into the hills and try to persuade the wild horses there to help me by carrying me to and from the house site. I may lose one afternoon’s efforts but using a horse would enable me to spend longer at work at night and to travel more swiftly, so for forms sake I grumble at Gimli over his ‘mothering’ but then agree that I am tired and that it would be a good idea to get some extra rest.

 

I ride away from the valley as if I am going to New Imladris but as soon as I am sure I am beyond Gimli’s sight I veer off into the foothills and begin to track the wild horses that I have been told are here.

 

Oh, but this is the best day I have spent in this new land. Here up in the hills amongst the trees I almost feel at home. The trees welcome me and sing of much happiness to come as we get to know each other. I place a hand on the bark of a particularly fine oak and it trembles with emotion and calls out to its brethren that the sapling they have been promised has come amongst them and all through the wood there is a rustling and whispering as the trees seem to communicate with each other.

As I ride beneath them, branches reach down to touch my head and shoulders, acknowledging and celebrating my presence in a way no other trees have done other than those of my father’s realm. Here within this new forest that the Valar have provided for my people. I find acceptance, a welcome such as I have not experienced since I left Greenwood the Great, it makes me feel both humble and honored.

Here I can hear the trees voices clearly; when I ask about the whereabouts of the herd of horses I am immediately pointed in the right direction. I had almost forgotten how wonderful it is to be able to communicate in such a fashion with the venerable elders of the forests.

 

I come out of the wood into a small valley, where a herd of horses are grazing.  There are several mares and foals under the charge of a chestnut stallion. My own mount whinnies a greeting to this lord of the herd who pricks up his ears and studies the interlopers with curiosity. There is no hint of fear or distrust as would be the case for horses back on Arda. I slip down from my mount, asking him to wait for me and slowly make my way to the valley floor. The stallion watches my progress with interest. I sink to the ground and hold out my hands, closing my eyes and allowing my mind to stretch outwards opening up my thoughts, showing my needs, my hopes.

 

 

The stallion stamps his feet and shakes his head, but does not retreat, rather he picks his way towards me, having sent his mares and foals to the other end of the valley.  I notice two older mares remain and follow the stallion despite his angry snorts and kicks. Almost I allow myself to laugh out loud for I see clearly that here is a male who believes he is lord of all he surveys yet it is the two oldest females who actually rule the roost. I suspect it will be they who decide my fate. If they choose to accept me and my proposition the stallion will have naught more to do than agree with them and accept their will.

I bow my head and wait, and they come to blow into my hair and sniff at my clothing then finally allow me to raise my hand and caress their muzzles.

 

Their words when they come echo in my mind as clearly as if I am speaking out loud. ‘We will carry you child of Arda’, they tell me ‘for your heart is pure; and you wish it not for yourself but for your short brother, who the trees tell us loves you with all his heart and who would sacrifice all for you. One of us will meet with you at the edge of the gardens of Elrond the healer.  Gladly will we carry you to your task in the valley of the elms and then back again before the dawn for as long as you require it of us.’

 

“Thank you,” I whisper in return, bowing my head, “I am in your debt.”

 

The stallion stamps his feet and bares his teeth at me, nipping at my hair and I am reminded that he could do serious damage to me should he wish. ‘we ask for no more than green grass and a safe home for our young amongst your new hills’ he tells me

 

“And that you will have baran finnel for as long as I endure,”  I answer meaning every word.

 

‘Enough of this flattery,’ one of the mares snaps, ‘tis time you were returned to where the short one expects you to be. His temper seems to us to be limited. Mount up on the quiet one and return to the home of the healer ere you are missed. One of us will be waiting tonight as the moon rises.’

 

And I am happy to say they are as good as their word for when I slip out of the house later the gray mare is waiting for me and carries me swiftly to the valley where I continue my work on the house happy in the knowledge that my return to New Imladris will be swift and assured and that I should get enough sleep to avoid too many questions from my over anxious guardian.

 

xxxx

 

 

 

The morning working in the valley has been productive and satisfying for the materials that the Valar have blessed this land with are of the finest quality I’ve had the pleasure of working with.  The stone for lining the foundation is going in quickly and the cutting for the main house is going smoothly as well.  I am in the middle of cutting some corner stones when I hear the bells that halt the work for the morning.   Normally I would not like to stop in the middle of a job, but I have agreed to meet Legolas on the hill and spend a little time sharing the midday meal with him.  He has been beyond my sight for several hours now, and I had no chance to make my way to the wood working area to see how he was getting on so I need this chance to see him now to assure myself that all is well. 

 

I am not overly assured when I do see him, for he looks a bit hollow-eyed to me, though he greets me heartily enough. As we eat, he tells me all about his day.  He has had a good morning it seems and is pleased with the progress that has been made in cutting floor joists, but when I start to tell him about my morning I soon find that I am talking to myself.  I look at him to see what has him so occupied only to find he has fallen asleep. 

 

I should have listened to my first inclination and made him stay back another day.  Clearly he needs more time to recover.  When I tell him that he should have stayed home today I get a short reply that it is not home, which is something I can fully understand.  Our hosts have been most kind and gracious, but the lad is still homesick and being a long-term guest is tedious for both of us. The sooner we get the west wing of the new house finished the better.  I understand he wishes to be involved as much as possible and yet it would be diminishing returns to do so at the cost of his health.  He is less than enamored of me when I send him home to rest for the rest of the afternoon, but he soon gives up arguing and rides off toward Imladris.

 

The rest of the day is uneventful save for the fact that before I leave for the day I find that the wood working crew has managed to get a great number of floor joists cut considering the amount of time they have been working on them.   Even the crew leader seems surprised at all that has been accomplished, wondering how everything got done so quickly.  I thank them all for their hard work and head back to Imladris.

 

On my way down the corridor I am intercepted by Lord Erestor who invites me into his study.  I am keen to get back to my chambers to wash away the day’s grime and to check on how Legolas has fared at home this afternoon, but Erestor seems to have something important to say so instead I follow him inside and accept the generous portion of spirits he pours into a tumbler and places in my hand. I cannot help wondering what is on his mind that he feels needs to be accompanied by such a beverage and immediately think of Legolas and what sort of bother he might have gotten into while I was gone. I brace myself for the tale, but it is not as I feared at all. He only wishes to ask me a question it seems. 

 

“Lord Gimli, I was wondering if there is anything we could do to make things more comfortable for you?” he asks.

 

I am surprised by this question for Lord Elrond and his household have already been most gracious and generous as it is without needing to do more.

 

“I canna imagine a thing I’d lift a finger to take, my Lord. Everyone has been most cordial and welcoming.  We appreciate it greatly.”  I tell him, wondering what has prompted his question.

 

“You are certain my friend?  It must be difficult to be in a land far from home with a people not your own.  I thought mayhap we might could do something that would make your stay more agreeable.”

 

It is a thoughtful question, but it seems an odd time to bring it up after I’ve already been in this land for six weeks and am currently covered in stone dust and sweat.  Still he looks eager to hear my answer so I oblige him. 

 

“Everything is fine, I assure you,” I tell him.

 

“That is well,” he says, “for there is no way to return to Middle Earth.  It would mean certain death for anyone who tried such an arduous journey against the straight road.  It cannot be done.”

 

“I am well aware of that my Lord, and I have no inclination or desire to try.  I had made peace with the decision to travel here long before we set sail.  May I inquire what has ye asking?”

 

“It is just that Legolas was questioning me on the possibility of such a trip and I assumed that  you…Oh!”  his thoughtful expression turns to one of deep concern. He does not say anything, but it is easy to see that it has dawned on him that if it was not myself wishing for a return journey then it could only mean that it is the elfling desiring such.   I am immediately worried as well.  The fact that Legolas was even contemplating such a thing speaks volumes about how he is not embracing our new life here.  I had thought perhaps he was a bit happier over this last little while, but evidently I was wrong to assume so.  I feel a bit shattered to think that the poor child is obviously still just as miserable and homesick as ever.  If only I knew what to do to help him move forward with more ease. 

 

I bid Lord Erestor good evening and continue on down the corridor toward our chambers, thinking on exactly what I need to do as I go.  There is no going back and the only thing I can think of that might help is what we are already doing.  Perhaps when we are able to move into a place of our own things will begin to look up. Yes keeping busy and involved in the planning and work is still the best plan of action as far as I can see. 

 

When I walk into the room, I find Legolas poring over some parchment or other.  He looks up and smiles, but I immediately notice that he looks even wearier than he had when I saw him last at midday.  An afternoon of rest should have had the opposite effect so now I am certain that all is not well.  Perhaps he has been concentrating on whatever is on the parchment he has before him rather than resting properly as he should have been.  I find myself frowning a little in frustration. 

 

“Ye better not have been working on whatever that is in front of ye this entire afternoon, Elfling!”  I tell him sounding more snappish than I intended to. 

 

“I promise you I have not, Elvellon.”  He says.

 

“That is well. Ye were meant to be resting, not working,” I remind him, before heading off to wash and change to clean attire. 

 

When I return it is to find my elfling standing out on the balcony looking at the stars.  His expression is unreadable as he looks out into the distance and I wonder if he is thinking of Ithilien or Greenwood, or any of the folks back in Middle Earth.  I go to stand beside him and place a hand on his on his arm in what I hope is a comforting gesture. 

 

“It won’t be long now, Lad,” I offer, patting his arm. He glances at me in some confusion, so I continue.  “We’ll both of us be better for having a place to call home, will we not?”

 

“Indeed we will,” he agrees, “and sooner rather than later. At least I hope so.”

 

“As do I, Lamb,” I tell him, “as do I.”  I mean it with all my heart and I vow to myself to do all I can to speed things along. I will do anything in my power that might ease the homesickness and suffering that the poor child must still be going through,

 

XXXXX

 

Six more nights of work have gone by and while I am beginning to physically wilt like a plant that has been uprooted. I am buoyed up by the progress we are making. Tonight I hope to finish the last of the main floor joists for the West wing of the house.

 

I have been amused by the consternation shown amongst those working with me at how quickly we are progressing; there is some talk of the Valar intervening to help us. I do not know how I have kept my countenance as the talk goes on around me. I want to tell them that the answer is far more prosaic and down to long nights of work but of course that would be foolish in the extreme.

 

I have not come all this way to be sent to Mandos Hall by an irate dwarf for I know all too well what Gimli’s reactions would be were he to ever find out about my night time machinations. I know he is increasingly concerned about me, and I have to be even more careful moving in and out of the house as I ride to the valley. I thank Eru that there is no need here for guards, for were that the case I would never be able to come and go as I am now doing.

 

I feel ridiculously guilty at the falsehoods I am having to inflict upon my friend and my hosts but I console myself with the knowledge that I am doing it for the very best of reasons and that the success of my efforts will allow me to provide Gimli with a home of our own where he can be more comfortable.

I cannot forget what I read in his journal, his regrets at leaving his home and his family and coming to a land where he is a dwarf alone. Even now I feel the bitter taste of culpability for he gave up all he had for me. There is no way I can pay him back for all he has left behind, so I must do what I can to make his life here more comfortable and if that means driving myself very hard then that is what I will do.

 

I would not be able to keep up the workload were it not for the cooperation of the horses who wait for me each night just beyond the gardens and carry me to the valley where I work for four hours or so before returning and snatching some much needed rest.

 

After the first morning when Gimli had difficulty waking me I have managed to ensure I am up at dawn as is normal although it is increasingly difficult to do so. When Gimli challenged me over my tiredness I told him it was because I was catching up on my studies of Khuzdul. I have even gone to the lengths of leaving out books and parchments on the desk under the window so it adds veracity to my claims. I can only hope he does not look too closely at what is there since I have done very little in fact.

 

Ah well, I sit in silence while I wait for the comforting sounds of Gimli’s snoring as he settles into deep sleep. He is as tired as I am, for he is working very hard which makes me feel all the more guilty that he is driving himself so hard while hiding his distress and loss.

Finally I know he is asleep and I slip out through the open windows and follow a now well-worn path through the darkened garden to where two horses stand waiting. One will carry me to the valley the other will return me to the house in the hours before dawn.

 

It is raining tonight which will probably shorten the time that will be available for me to work, for what I dare not do is leave damp clothing about where it might be found and questions asked.

 

 

Despite my tiredness and the rain, I get quite a deal done; I hear the horse’s whicker warning me it is time to go. I desperately want to finish this last joist before I do so, and redouble my efforts, making the chisel fairly fly, this impatience is my undoing for the rain has made the tools slippery and as I bear down on the mallet the chisel slips from my grasp and catches my left calf cutting deep into the flesh.

 

Blood spurts out from the cut and I hurry to bind the wound with a cloth that I had been using to wrap my tools in. I will have to clean it properly when I get back, but know I have little time to spare now so hurry to clear up so there is no evidence of my late night efforts to cause comment tomorrow, or should I say later today.

 

The ride back is miserable as the rain falls more heavily, and when I reach my bed chamber all I want to do is strip off my wet clothes, push them into a clothes press and fall into bed I will deal with the injury in the morning.

 

Xxxx

 I ride back toward New Imladris after a long day of laboring in the sun, and feel I should be able to take some pleasure in the fact that so much has been accomplished over the last few days.  However I find it impossible to do so.  What good is having a pile of good cut stone if there is something amiss with my elfling?  I am not here in this land to build a remarkable house, but to care for my friend and he is clearly slipping back into melancholy or illness, I do not know which.  Maybe it is both.  Whatever the case may be it did not decrease my worries when Lord Elrond even looked puzzled over the situation. He cannot find anything wrong physically other than the lad is clearly worn out.   I have sent him to rest earlier and earlier in the evenings and yet it never seems to help.  Suggesting another day off nearly sends him into a panic and his distress at the idea seems almost worse than the exhaustion so I have continued to give in, though for how much longer I do not know.  Looking at him now he is nearly as gaunt and hollow eyed as he was before we left Middle Earth.  Clearly something is going to have to change.

 

When I question him over it, he tries to make a jest about it, but when he sees my expression admits to staying up late working on learning Khuzdul.  It is a very flimsy excuse, for I haven’t noticed enough improvement in his fluency to show that much work.  Still just in case I proceed to scour our quarters and confiscate all books and parchment and other paraphernalia associated with practicing the language and place them in a locked cabinet in my own bedchamber.  Of course he demands to know what I think I am doing with Lord Erestor’s property. 

 

“I am putting it where ye can’t get your pretty little paws on it, Elfling!”  I tell him sternly while ignoring his glowering. He opens his mouth to protest, but I stop him in his tracks with an impatient growl for I am in no mood to argue.  “Laddie we have known one another for over one hundred  years and have managed to communicate without your learning the Dwarven language.  Why would ye need to know it now when there is no one to speak it with for crying out loud?  What freak notion has gotten into that flighty head of yours this time?”

 

“I was doing it for you, Elvellon,” he succeeds in looking a little hurt, but it is not enough to change my mind.  In fact if I have the distinct feeling that he is trying to distract me from something though there is no way to prove it.

 

I draw deep inside myself to find a hidden store of patience before I reply.  “I appreciate the sentiment, Lamb, but there is no need. There will be ample time later when you will not be working so hard on other projects.”

 

“But I have wasted enough time already,” he tries again.  “I want to practice with you while I still can…” 

 

Again I have the feeling that this is all contrived and I am just being danced around for some reason.

 

“Hmmph!  The only thing ye need practice tonight is getting bathed, fed and in bed, in that order!  And quickly without further comment.”

 

“But Gimli, I…”

 

“Legolas, drop it,” I say, firmly grasping his arm and pointing a warning finger in his face.  “Say no more about it or I’ll be practicing a language with ye that ye’ll be sure not to misunderstand”. 

 

He is skating on very thin ice and knows it, but still risks one final huff and glare, though he does not say anything further.  The rest of the evening’s conversation is a little stiff, but thankfully the evening doesn’t last long since he obediently goes directly to bed right after the evening meal. 

 

I do not wish to be harsh, but my concern for him is growing every day and he can be hard headed at times to say the least.  Still I do not like to leave bad feelings between us, so I follow him into his chambers shortly after he has retired in order to see him settled.  His smile is genuine as I brush a light kiss on his forehead and then wish him peaceful rest and sweet dreams.

 

 Having restored peace between us I am able to fall asleep quickly myself for it truly has been a tiring day.  When I awaken the next day it is with the hope that I will find my elfling looking improved from last night, but on close inspection I do not see it.  If anything he looks even slightly worse than before,  but perhaps I am imagining it.  The peace between us from last night does not last either when I begin the day wondering out loud if he needs to stay back.  His distress is so evident over that idea that I finally acquiesce and permit him to follow me if he is willing to follow my restrictions. 

 

He reluctantly agrees, having no other option, but is more than a little put out when he finds out what I require.   He will no longer be working with the timber crews, but with me under my direct supervision.  I nip his complaint that he knows more about woodworking in the bud by firmly telling him that he only has to do exactly as I tell him and everything will be fine.  In his less than fully alert condition it would be madness to allow him to work with the sharpened chisels that the ones making the floor joists are using.  He does not like my saying this but it takes full concentration to use such dangerous tools. Neither do I fancy putting a stone-saw in his hand and having him haul the heavy stone is also out of the question.  I intend to give him a light duty and still keep a very close eye on him. 

 

I put him to work making patterns out of parchment in the right sizes to fill spaces in the stone foundation.  These are then laid on top of the large stones so that filler stones can be cut and laid in like mosaic. He may feel a bit annoyed at this assignment since it isn’t at all physically taxing but it is an important duty and one that can be done in my line of vision.  Even so I can tell he is struggling already by halfway through the morning.  I call him aside to speak to him privately bracing myself for an argument. He is not going to like what I have to say.  Nevertheless it must be said.

“I’m sorry, Lamb but your shift is over for the day.  I know ye want to be here, but it’s easy to see that ye’re just about done in and ye’ll be making things worse by continuing on.” 

 

As expected he disputes the need for this, but gives up quickly when he realizes it is a fruitless exercise.   I even manage to extract a promise from him that he will seek his bed as soon as he arrives at Imladris. 

 

When the day finally ends and I am on m way home, I am still trying to figure out what could possibly be going on because it makes no sense that the lad continues to decline in spite of my extra efforts to get him to rest.  To be perfectly honest I half expect to find him somewhere other than where he should be, but it is not so.  I find him in a deep slumber and upon questioning our hosts, find that they have not seen nor heard anything from him since we left this morning. 

 

The next morning he looks so drawn and pale that I place a hand on his chest before he even attempts to rise.  He is in no condition to work and no amount of fuss will change my mind this time, something I do not hesitate to tell him.  I am actually quite beside myself with worry now and I almost decide to stay back with him. If it weren’t for the fact that nothing can be done without my being present to interpret my drawings to the stone masons, I would not go out at all.  As it is I will make an appearance and come back early.  

 

On my way out I seek Lord Elrond and find that he is not in residence today, but has left an apprentice healer in charge.  He promises to check on my friend and have me sent for should he feel it necessary.  With that small reassurance I reluctantly depart. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

I remind myself that I have to be very careful, for Gimli is beginning to suspect that something is very wrong with me. He has already confiscated the books I had placed out on Khuzdul and no amount of pleading on my part is going to get them returned until he decides it to be so.

So, that part of my plan for hiding my exhaustion has already gone completely awry, and I am in no position to challenge his actions. For if he were to look at my scribbling very closely he would soon see that it is nothing more than an attempt at a smoke screen and all I have strived to achieve would be wasted.

 

Worse he has insisted I work directly under his eyes, and while I appreciate the sentiment behind his care, I cannot but feel that he has given up far too much for me already. Yet even I stubborn as I am, I have to accept that I cannot go on pretending even to myself that I can work at the rate I have been doing. I have been pushing myself too hard.

 

So, I decide- well there was little decision to make in reality for Gimli would not be gainsaid- that I will do less physical work during the day light hours but make up for it by working longer and harder at night.

 

Even this however is not enough for my over anxious guardian, who after only half a day insists I return to the house and get some rest.

 

Tired as I am I do just that, and then get up again in the night to work. This is a mistake as this morning Gimli has finally lost all patience with me. He announces that I am confined to the house until further notice and has threatened me with a visit from a healer.

I suppose the only good thing about this incarceration is that Gimli has not remained with me, which is no doubt what he wished to do. But the cutting of the stone for the house has reached a critical point and he needs to be present so he puts me on my word of honor to remain where I am and to get some rest.

 

In reality I am almost happy to do as he bids. I am stubborn but not as stupid as some think. I know I am not as well nor as strong as I would wish to be. It is taking me far longer to recover from our sea journey and the effects of the sea longing than I expected. Perhaps a day of sleep will rejuvenate me, and allow my injured leg to heal, for my healing abilities seem to have been negatively affected by my tiredness.  The gash where the chisel sliced off a layer of skin has still not healed. The wound feels hot and when I look at it the area around the cut is red and swollen. I have to accept that there may be infection, but I am not about to tell anyone about it for questions are bound to be asked over when and how I got the injury. Surely if I keep it clean and get some proper sleep all will be well.

 

I wake just after noon and feel much refreshed.  For a moment I wonder what it is that has woken me then hear another knock on the door and someone requesting admittance.

The elf that enters is unknown to me, but his garb is familiar enough. He is an apprentice healer.

He introduces himself as Minuial and tells me he has been asked to ‘check up’ on me by Gimli. I am about to ask him for some salve to treat my leg, but bite my tongue at this piece of information. It would be foolish indeed to mention my injury to anyone who is going to report back to my overcautious friend. Instead I answer his questions about whether I am feeling better for my enforced rest with as much patience as I can muster and as much lack of truth that I think I can get away with, which is a considerable amount more than would have been the case had I been under the scrutiny of Lord Elrond.

 

Minuial nods and smiles and seems happy when I tell him I am feeling very much refreshed, so much so that I feel emboldened to ask him for some salve for a ‘friend’ who is working at the site who has had the misfortune to cut himself with a chisel and allowed the wound to become infected.

As all healers do he shakes his head and mutters about the foolishness of those who do not take proper care of their health and I nod and agree with him for I can see that if I can get a supply of salves and dressings by this small deception it will allow me to carry on with my work at night.

 

The young healer provides me with all I need to treat my injury including some herbs that act as painkillers if they should be needed, all the while abjuring me to get ‘my friend’ to see a healer as soon as possible. I reply with complete honesty that I will see that he does so. Have I not just done exactly as he has asked?

I then allow myself the luxury of another nap so that I will be ready for Gimli when he returns and more importantly ready for a long night’s work once Gimli has fallen asleep.

 

I sleep far longer than I had intended and wake to find it is late in the afternoon. I am surprised but grateful that Gimli has not yet returned, and hurry to bathe and then treat the cut on my leg, I have just finished dressing when I hear the familiar and much loved tread of dwarven feet on the stair.

I look around to make sure all is as it should be and see the bandages and soiled cloths I have been using to clean the wound. There is no time for me to dispose of them so I throw them into the clothes press where my wet and dirty clothes are still hiding and then plump down on top of the lid and begin to braid my hair just as Gimli comes in.

 

He is tired. I can see it in his face and in his movements and again guilt grips me, at what his choices have cost him, yet as ever his first concern is for me and as he inspects me a relieved smile fills his face.

 

“Ye are looking much bonnier, lamb,” he declares, “almost back to your old self in fact.”

 

“I feel much refreshed,” I return, “Which is more than can be said for you, Elvellon. You look exhausted.”

 

Of course he brushes off my concern, “Nothing that a hot bath and a mug of ale will not cure lad.  We had some trouble with the stone cutting, else I would have been back sooner. Do not worry,” he adds as he sees my frown. “It is sorted out now.”

 

“I will run you a bath and fetch you some ale,” I offer hurrying to do just that. He follows me into the bathing chamber as I add, “And maybe tonight we can eat here, just the two of us. It will be good to share some time with you.” I can see my idea pleases him and I am glad for it.

 

“Aye that would be good lad. A quiet night together and perhaps an early one as well, for although ye look better, ye are still a bit peaky yet and I admit to being tired enough that even sleeping on a tree branch sounds good to me.”

 

We both laugh at this old joke, for Gimli has never come to like sleeping in trees or even the telain the Galadhrim used, although he never said so to his lady.  I go off to the kitchens to find his ale and order our food served in our chambers tonight.

 

It is a pleasant evening. Gimli insists we eat on the terrace that overlooks the gardens so we can share the sunset together. We talk, as we have not done for some time although I avoid speaking of our life back on Arda for fear of upsetting him and he, after attempting to get me to talk of friends or places we have known, turns the conversation to our plans for the future instead, and here I am keen to encourage him as I believe that the sooner we get our  own home the easier it will be for Gimli to accustom himself to his life here and he may not feel the loss of his old life quite so much.

Once the food has been cleared away I sit at Gimli’s feet as he smokes his pipe. I stretch my injured leg cautiously hoping to avoid his notice but to no avail.

 

“Is there something amiss with your leg?” he demands to know

 

“Merely cramp. It is better now. There is something wrong with my nose however.”

 

I look back over my shoulder and see his dark eyes gleaming for he knows what I am about to say. Still he plays along with me

 

“Oh?”

 

“Aye it is the smell of that pipe of yours. I had hoped to be free of the stench when we traveled west.” Gimli chuckles at my feigned disgust, for it had been one of my fears that he would not be able to find weed for his pipe here in the Blessed Realm and would miss its comfort. But on our arrival Erestor showed us a field of tobacco plants, which the elves still tended. It had been planted for the use of the Hobbits and kept in cultivation since their death for Olórin who still indulged in a pipe whenever he visited New Imladris so Gimli is now well provided for. I must remember to plant some of the weed in our new gardens once we are settled.

 

Gimli flicks my ear for my ‘impertinence’ as he calls it and we sit in silence watching the first of the stars appear in the darkening sky.

 

I wish I could spend the whole night in such pleasant occupation and in the company of my friend but I have missed a day and a half of work and am determined to catch up tonight, so I yawn discretely which is immediately spotted.

 

“I think it is time we both turned in Lamb. A good night’s sleep will see us both ready for a hard day’s work tomorrow. Although ye will not be going if I see any dark circles under your eyes as have been present far too much lately.” He adds.

 

I bite my tongue rather than answer and meekly allow myself to be steered towards my bed chamber wishing Gimli a good night’s sleep as we part at the door.

 

I do not bother to undress merely slipping off my tunic and boots and getting under the covers for it would not surprise me to have Gimli come and check on me in a short while as has become his habit of late.

 

Tonight, however he must be very tired for I soon hear the sound of his snores reverberating around his chamber he is clearly deeply asleep already. I pull on my boots and tunic and step out onto the balcony and climb down into the gardens. I feel so much better for my period of enforced rest that I am sure I can put in a good night’s work and still appear fit and refreshed tomorrow morning so that Gimli will not attempt to keep me back another day.

I smile as I recall the pleasant evening I have just spent with Gimli he is the one person here now that I can fully relax with that I do not need to guard my tongue against, save only when I am trying to deceive him of course, but my deception this time is for a very good reason, the best of all reasons, for Gimli’s welfare is of great importance to me. I owe him so much that anything I can do for him I will, even if it means going against his express orders as I am doing presently.

It is this thought that is in the forefront of my mind and I find myself singing softly as I as I settle in for a long night of labor.

 

 

xxxx

 

 

The day I had expected to be extra short has turned into a long arduous one instead.  The corners of two walls were being laid in today and we were moving on at an impressive clip when I realized the stone they were laying was white limestone instead of granite.  Now while some kinds of limestone weather well and can be used as a main wall, they are not suitable to be used as corners.  I am uncertain how such a mistake was made without my catching it sooner, but it was quite a setback as the wall had to be disassembled and granite cut to replace it.  That means that not only was I unable to return early to check up on my lad, but I’m arriving even later than I normally would.  Not only that but I am more exhausted than I have been since we began this project. 

 

I am very much heartened though when I arrive to our quarters and find Legolas looking much improved. In fact he looks better than he has for days and I am greatly relieved to see it, though I know better than to let my guard down for he has improved for a short while before.  

 

For now he is all sweet concern as he bustles about drawing me a bath and then hurries off to see about food and ale.  By the time I am refreshed and have come back to the common room, he has returned with food and drink.   Since it is a fair evening tonight I suggest we eat on the terrace and watch the sunset, for the sunsets here are more glorious than any I have seen in any other place before. 

 

We watch in silence as the sun changes from dazzling yellow to pulsating orange as it sinks into the hollows of the surrounding hills.  It sets the sky ablaze with shades of fiery red, and luminous orange tinged at the edges with brilliant pink and soft purple until all that is left is a sliver of orange light and then we are in darkness surrounded by low hanging stars.  I realize again what a rare gift has been given to me by the Valar to be allowed to be here enjoying this beautiful land.  I vow that I will never take for granted this blessing and do my best to take advantage of every day given to me. 

 

I feel a bit sentimental when I look across the table at my friend.  I make an attempt to talk of old memories of our time together in Middle Earth, but he is not keen to talk of such things tonight.  Perhaps it is too soon, the pain of our parting too raw for him still.  I have no desire to upset him so I change the topic to the new house and our plans for the future. He brightens at this and speaks animatedly about plans for the gardens.  As he continues to talk excitedly about the future, I begin to realize how much I have missed this kind of banter.  Lighthearted conversation has been in very short supply since we arrived here on the Lonely Isle, and truthfully even over the last several years in Middle Earth after Legolas became so crippled with sea longing. 

 

So I am doubly pleased when after the dishes are cleared away and I have taken out my pipe, Legolas sits at my feet leaning against my legs to look at the stars.  It is lovely to hear him laugh and jest that the smell of my pipe is just as offensive as ever. It has been too long since he has felt the interest or the desire to tease and jest about anything.  In truth I know he is just as pleased as I am that there are pipe weed plants being cultivated here in New Imladris.  I have the hobbits to thank for the starting of that and I thank the One that the old wizard still enjoys a smoke now and then and the plants are tended for the times when he graces the New Homely House with his presence   We have not met with him as of yet, but Lord Elrond assures us that it is only matter of time. 

 

For now I just chuckle at the impertinent comment and give his ear a flick before ruffling his hair and then smoothing it down again. I continue to absently stroke the length of it as we fall into companionable silence once again.  I would like to sit out here like this all evening, but when Legolas stifles a yawn it reminds me that we have a long day again tomorrow and if he is to be fit to work a nice long rest is in order.  It is time we turned in for the evening. 

 

I wish him a good night and close his bedchamber door.  I then make certain the latch on the double doors leading to the balcony is securely fastened. One of our first nights here the door was blown open and the parchments that had been left on a table had been strewn about the place.  I secure the latch and double check that it is firmly in place and then I take myself off to my own chambers. 

 

It is then that I remember the confiscated books that I have placed in the locked cabinet.  I had wanted to take a look at them and see how accurate they are for I was not aware that such books were available to any folks other than dwarves.  I see that the volume has been written by Eöl, the Dark Elf of Beleriand, who had a close friendship with the dwarves of the Blue Mountains back in the early times of Middle Earth.  Having been considered dwarf-kin it makes sense that he would have been allowed to learn the dwarven language and it seems to me that he learned it well, for his writings are quite on spot. 

 

I also take a look at the parchments that Legolas has been supposedly using to practice and laugh at what I find there.  There are some Khuzdul characters it is true, but the penmanship is something I might expect from someone in their first year of schooling.  That isn’t so surprising in itself as he has never before attempted writing Khuzdul that I’m aware of.  What I find comical is that interspersed with the characters are doodles and scribbles along with a drawing that looks suspiciously like a cat’s face.  I shake my head and set the parchments aside.  I don’t pretend to know everything that goes on in that child’s head, but whatever it was at the time he was writing this, it had very little to do with learning the dwarven language.  Whatever it is, I suppose it will come to light sometime in the future so I do not bother trying to figure it out right now.

 

It is my intention to read for a few minutes and then check on my friend as has become my custom since arriving here.  It eases my mind to see him settled and I believe he gains comfort from my concern, but this night it doesn’t happen that way. I must be more exhausted than I thought for I find myself waking up deep in the night, having fallen asleep with the book in my hand.

 

I sense that it is only a few hours to dawn and wonder what it was that woke me up this early in the morning.  I hear a loud thud and the whistle of a stiff wind and arise to see what is making all the racket.

 

I hear the thud again as I step out into the common room. Immediately I see what the cause is.  The balcony doors have swung open and are banging into the wall.  A stiff breeze blows in upsetting a tall vase and causing it to crash to the floor.  I quickly push the doors shut again and latch them down and wonder how on earth they managed to be forced open.  I look carefully at the latching device and I can see that there is no way this was the action of wind.  This had to be unlatched by someone and since it wasn’t me, it is obvious who did it.  Becoming suspicious, I open the door again and walk out on the balcony.  I see the tiniest smudge on the parapet where someone might have stood on it briefly before scaling down the wall to the gardens below. 

 

I shake my head as a familiar feeling of exasperation rises in me.  But perhaps I am wrong.  Perhaps he only went out to for a short while and forgot to latch the door behind him upon coming back in and returning to bed.  There is one way to find out.  Without knocking I open Legolas’ bedchamber door and it is just as I feared.  His bed is empty and his boots are missing. I know without a doubt that he has snuck off into the night, though I am still trying to puzzle out the reason for it.  The only thing I can think of is that he has gone off to the building site, but I cannot imagine why he would do so in the dead of night, knowing full well that he would find himself in serious bother when I found him missing in the morning.

 

I am usually pretty good at figuring out his convoluted thinking, but this time it takes me all the time I am getting dressed before I get an inkling.  Suddenly a light goes off and I see what has been going on right under my nose this whole week.  Legolas did not plan on my finding him missing in the morning, for he fully intended to be back before I awoke at dawn.  I would find him supposedly just getting up as usual and likely be concerned when he didn’t look as rested as he should after sleeping all night.  That admission to working late into the night on learning Khuzdul was a smokescreen to distract me from the real truth that he has been sneaking out every night to work.  That explains why all those hours of rest were not refreshing him for he was not resting at all but continuing to work throughout the night.  It also explains the supernatural speed that the floor joists were getting finished! 

 

How it took me so long to figure this out, I do not know. I must be off my game lately being so focused on the building project, but in my defense who could be expected to ever fully figure out the thought processes of my capricious charge?  I never dreamed he was in such a hurry to get the house finished that he would give up sleeping entirely just to work on it. No wonder he has looked like a walking corpse over the last few days!  Evidently I foiled his game by forcing him to stay home yesterday and that was the reason for the marked improvement of last night.  Well having foiled it once, I intend to do so again.  I will not wait until morning, but will ride out now to find him.

 

To give him credit, he managed to pull this off for a long time-more than a week-and likely would have done so again this night had the wind not picked up and blown the door open.  I will have to remember to congratulate him on managing to fool me so neatly for so long. Of course that will be after a detailed discussion on how I feel about blatant disobedience and deception, not to mention the fact that it is dangerous beyond permission to work alone with sharp tools under any circumstances let alone in the dark and with hindered alertness from lack of sleep. 

 

I hurry off to the stables to find the stable master already about the place and busy with caring for the horses. When I tell him of my circumstances he gladly lets me take my usual horse, leading him out of the stalls and even saddling him for me.  I climb onto his broad back and begin making my way into the woods and to the valley.  I force myself to take deep breaths to keep the irritation and anger that is rising in me at bay or at least at acceptable levels.  I do not wish to unleash the full fury of my frustration on him, but there are times when it is a trial to stay calm.  What could he have possibly been thinking?

 

My frustration begins to grow even more when I draw near to the site and hear his sweet singing as he goes about his latest nighttime task.  How can he sound so cheerful when he has clearly been placing himself at risk and driving me mad in the meantime all week long?  The Valar have promised me extra long life, but tonight I have little hope that I will actually be able to achieve it. 

 

That bratling elf is going to be the death of me yet!

 

XXXX

 

 

There is quite a brisk breeze blowing making the lanterns I have placed around my work area dance. It is a beautiful night though, and I feel so much better having had a full day’s rest, I expect to get quite a lot of work done in the hours before dawn and anything I can do that will help to speed up the process of building so that Gimli and I can properly begin our lives here is welcome to me.

 

The leg that I injured earlier in the week is still hot and sore, although I am certain that with the salve I now have from the healer it will soon begin to heal. All in all it is a perfect night for working, Gimli and I had a lovely evening together. It reminded me of how we used to spend our evenings together when I visited Aglarond. Gimli knows how I love the stars and always ensured that we spent some time on the surface watching the sun set and the stars begin to come out.

His care of me and my needs has always been of the best, and I do not like the fact that I am presently deceiving him as I am. I console myself with the thought that I am doing this for his sake as well as mine. How successful I would be in trying to persuade him of that fact is a moot point as I am intent on avoiding him finding out what I am doing.

 

I have also decided that I will not work every night from now on, but perhaps every other night. There is no point in my working during the night hours if I am not fit to work during the day and my over anxious guardian insists I stay back because he is concerned over my health.

 

I pick up my tools and begin to fashion the dovetail joints that will join each of the joists together, smiling as I recall the surprise of the other wood workers who keep wondering how we are making so much progress. Perhaps it is better that they as well as Gimli remain in ignorance.

 

I keep a close eye on the sky for I know I must be well on my way back to the house before the first signs of dawn begin to show themselves and as I work I sing softly for I am feeling happy and contented and I wish to share my joy with the small night creatures that move about in the woods around me.

 

I hear a horse whicker a greeting to its fellow and for a moment I pause then realize it is likely to be one of the wild horses that often come down into the valley at night to graze and to keep my mount company. Putting aside one of the joists I pick up another and launch into a new song as I begin to shave away the rough edges.

 

My heart leaps into my mouth as a voice behind me comments

 

“That is a pretty tune, lamb.”

 

“Gimli!”

 

“Nothing wrong with your eyesight then, just your common sense.”

 

So far, all that my guardian has done is stand on the other side of the pile of finished joists and glare at me. Why do I fear that, that situation will not be of long duration and why is that the only thing I can think of to say is to croak out his name a second time?

“G …Gimli!”

 

“What do you think you are doing?” He demands

 

Many answers flit through my frantic brain, but I am not so suicidal that I actually give voice to them. Instead I stutter “I … I … it was a clear night, and I felt so much refreshed by my days rest that I thought … that is I thought I would come here and do some preparatory work in readiness for tomorrow. N … nothing too complicated, just simple plane work and joints. I was only intending to stay for a short time but I was enjoying the night and I forgot how long I had been here. I was about to pack up and come back.” I hurry to add as he growls deep in his throat.

 

“The horse Lord Elrond has placed at your disposal is still in his stable.”

 

It is not a question but I nod my agreement anyway as he continues.

 

 “Yet there were two horses here as I rode in. Wild horses by the look of them but obviously waiting here for something, I assume that something was you. Is that how you have been getting out here and home again?”

 

“It is quicker than walking,” I temporize, doing my best to avoid answering the implication behind this line of questioning; that being that I have been here more than once.

 

“I suppose it is, and no doubt they were just there at the right time when you needed a ride. Many are the miracles of this blessed land, Lamb, but I had not realized that you had only to wish for something and it would appear. There are one or two things I would find quite handy presently.”

 

I can guess what those items may be and can only hope the Valar are not paying attention to Gimli’s desires,

 

Any faint hope I had of perhaps persuading Gimli that this was the only occasion I have come out here go glimmering as he looks straight into my eyes and asks the question I have been dreading since his unexpected arrival.

 

“How many nights have you been coming here?”

 

 

I can tell he is keeping his temper in check with some difficulty and as I look down at his hands I see them twitching. I swallow but no words come out. Well do I know how he dislikes deception, but if I tell him the truth he is likely to slaughter me.

 

“How many nights?” he repeats, “Answer me Lamb”

 

“One or two…” I change tack hurriedly as he steps towards me. “That is a few …” I admit. “I mean several” I squeak as he reaches my side and takes hold of my arm, preventing any possibility of further retreat.

 

 

“These ‘several’ nights as you call them, being all the time I have been worrying about your deteriorating health I take it?”

 

There is nothing to be gained from further attempts at deception so I merely say, “Yes Gimli.”

 

“Ye have been coming out here, night after night, deliberately deceiving me and Lord Elrond and his family. I am ashamed of ye laddie, aye and more than that I am ashamed that I did not realize it the sooner and put a stop to it before ye made yourself ill. Well,”

He breathes in deeply as if trying to calm himself, “I intend to put a stop of it now, and to make sure you never attempt to do anything akin to this again.”

 

He turns and then seats himself on a pile of planks and I realize he is intent on taking me to task where we stand. I tug on his arm and plead for a postponement until we reach New Imladris for it will not be long before the first of the workers arrive at the site to begin work, but Gimli has obviously decided that he cannot wait any longer to make his feelings known to me.  He yanks me towards him and then over his solid lap.

 

 Before our arrival here, it had been some years since he last used this method to bring me to a sense of my own errors, but he has obviously not forgotten how best to set about things.

My leggings are soon down around my knees and my shirt and tunic turned up over my back.  The wind is cool on my exposed hindquarters but that is likely to be only a temporary affair I fear.

 

A sharp swat brings my mind back to the matters at hand, and I listen while Gimli points out to me the many and various sins and failings that I am guilty of. I do not need to answer this litany of my numerous shortcomings. I have only to try and endure what is to come.

 

In the past Gimli has used a technique he calls ‘warming up’ and it is at this stage that I am required to answer his questions as to why I find myself in this most undignified position. Tonight there are no preliminaries. His anger, his fear, his bewilderment make such a thing impossible. He just begins paddling my rump with a heavy methodical hand, soon setting up an unrelenting rhythm, backside, thighs, sit spot each area is given its proper share of attention, so much so that when he begins the procedure again I struggle to keep from shifting and squirming for I sense this is going to be a long lesson.

 

“I am sorry …” I tell my implacable nemesis but it seems from his renewed tattoo on my rapidly blistering backside that he thinks I am nowhere near as sorry as I should be.

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, I stop fighting and droop totally defeated tears dripping unheeded onto the ground.

 

I no longer care that anyone might see or hear me, even though through my half closed eyes I can see the increasing light as the sun begins its daily flight across the sky.

 

The colours of dawn are usually soft, pale pastels, pinks, oranges, light yellows and streaks of increasingly glowing gold.  This morning my rump is putting all those pallid shades to flight.  I cannot see it but I know that it must be glowing as bright as the sunset I enjoyed with Gimli last evening.

I very much doubt I will be enjoying anything for the rest of this day or even longer if this goes on much more.

 

Finally, just when I am sure I cannot endure another moment and I am practically crawling off his lap while begging for a reprieve, Gimli seems to be satisfied that I have learned my lesson for he turns me upright. I fall into his embrace, sobbing out my apologies and promises of better conduct in the future.

 

“There will be no repeat of this laddie” he tells me, firmly.

 

My breath is hitched as I answer, “No I promise. I meant it for the best but I see how wrong it was of me now.”

 

“Very wrong Lamb and I canna see the sense of what ye were doing either, but we will say no more on that now.  We will talk once I get ye back to the house.  Come, up ye get. Ye don’t want the others to see you in this state.”

 

While I agree with that sentiment I do not know what I excuse I am going to be able to come up with for doing as I did, for I cannot tell him the true reasons not without making him even more unhappy than he already is with his life here. Still I obediently get to my feet and reorder my clothes hissing as my leggings come in contact with my blistered rump.

 

I limp after Gimli and it is not until we reach where the horses are standing that I realize that he is expecting me to ride. He answers my pleading look with a stern one of his own, “Up ye get, the sooner we are away the better it will be.”

 

“Not for my rear end.” I answer glumly as I haul myself onto the mare’s back, “and here I was thinking my punishment was over and done with.”

 

Gimli laughs and sets his own mount into motion, “I promise not to go at anything faster than a trot.” He tells me, his deep throaty laughter all but drowning out my whimper as we set off for the house.

 

 

 

xxxx


	4. Chapter 4

 

“Gimli!”

Standing across from a pile of finished joists I can practically see the wheels turning as my startled charge tries to come up with an acceptable explanation as to what he’s doing here in the middle of the night.  He attempts to try to imply that this is the only night he has been away, but not for long.  I put an end to any delusion he has that he has gotten away with anything by directly asking how many nights he has been coming here and it is just as I thought.  All this time I believed him to be declining in health for no explainable reason he has been intent on working both night and day in a valiant effort to kill himself.

 

I admit to being completely baffled as to the reasons for such foolish actions. I am certain he feels he has some cause to deceive me in such a fashion, for he is not likely to lie just for the pleasure of it. In fact I know him well enough to know that he is likely feeling rather guilty over the whole mess, whatever it is.  I fully intend to get to the truth of the matter but for now I will focus on making certain we will not have a repeat performance.  Ever. 

 

My methods for doing so seem convincing if we are to judge by the sincere promises of improved behavior as he reflexively fights to escape from my lap.  He attempts to cooperate, but that soon becomes impossible, for I am not going soft on him at all.   The difficult bit is continuing on in spite of his pleas for a reprieve, but I feel I must make my views clearly know that this nonsense must stop for good.  We have not gone to all the trouble of coming this far just so he can destroy his health behind my back. I cannot imagine why he seems so determined to do so, but it will not do and so I leave him in no doubt about my feelings on the matter.  

 

By the time he is in my arms sobbing incoherent phrases about ‘meaning it for the best,’ the sun is rising and I realize we need to depart.  The workers will be arriving at any time and I do not wish us to be seen.  I am adamant about riding back to the house, in spite of the fact that he does not care for the idea. Walking will not be much easier and it will take much longer and the sooner we are back to our chambers the better.

 

 In all honesty I do feel a little sorry for his predicament, but I remind myself firmly that he should have thought of this possibility earlier. I manage to remain stern until we arrive to the house and I have returned the horse to the stable and he has bid farewell to the wild stallion he has managed to get to carry him at his command.  As always I feel my heart twist seeing his forlorn expression.  I can see he is hesitant to go inside for fear of seeing someone, but there is nothing to be gained by postponing it.  I take him by the arm and guide him toward the door.

 

“Come, Lamb, just straighten your hair a bit and no one will notice a thing,” I tell him.  I sound more confident about that than I feel for his swollen red rimmed eyes and less than graceful gait paint a picture that isn’t that hard to interpret, but all I can do is hope that if we pass anyone they will be discerning enough not to comment.  Fortunately we encounter no one curious enough to ask questions and make it back to our quarters without any trouble. 

 

I am tempted to get directly to the topic at hand and finagle some answers from my secretive friend, but once we arrive I have a change of heart.  After all we have all day and Legolas looks a completely wretched just now.  Instead I send him off to get cleaned up and to lie down for a bit telling him we will talk after he is more rested. I do not point out that whatever progress in building he has made by his nightly trysts is being quickly countered by days of work missed during the day for he is currently in no shape to work and I have no intention to leave him on his own until I have some answers. 

 

He meekly follows my instructions and closes the door behind him.  I sigh again in deep frustration  for I only wish Legolas to be happy and clearly he is not.  This sort of deceitful behavior is reminiscent of our early days together before he knew me well enough to trust me with his concerns and worries and was more prone to try to handle things without my input even if he knew I would not approve of his way of dealing with it.  In later years he learned to talk things over first and saved us both a lot of heartache and trouble.  So this feels like a real set back and seems to be proof of a larger problem and I am more than a little concerned.  Well I am finished trying to guess what is going on and whatever this is will end today one way or another. 

 

For now, though, I think we could both do with a cup of tea.  I set about making it and carry it to his bedchamber to find he is still in the bath, no doubt attempting to soak away aches and pains.  I put the tea aside and notice he has left his soiled clothing strewn about the room.  Very well, I will play maid for him this one time.  I gather them up and open the clothes press, only to drop them in a heap at my feet as I leap back in shock at what I find inside.  Bloodstained bandages and cloths and blood drenched clothing. 

 

I quickly dismiss my first thought that Legolas has murdered someone and hidden the body in the clothes press.  He may be out of sorts, but not enough for that to be the answer!  My second thought seems much more likely.  He has injured himself in some way and hidden the evidence where he thought I wouldn’t see it.  I have barely had time to process that thought when he comes out toweling his hair and with another towel wrapped around his waist.  Seeing my face he pales a bit and begins rapidly trying to dress as if by covering the injury site I will not think to ask about it.  I am completely fed up and say as much.

 

“Halt right there, Elfling,” I growl. “Do not even think of moving another muscle until ye’ve e answered my questions.  Where is this injury of yours and has anyone tended it?  Show it to me now.”

 

“N..no one has seen it,” he admits and then hurries to assure me.  “But do not worry, It is nothing really.”

 

“Keep in mind that I am perfectly willing to search for it myself,” I warn as if he hasn’t said a word.  He stares at me for a moment chewing his lip, but when I take a step toward him he finally shows some sense and turns to show me a badly infected wound on his left calf.  I cross the floor quickly and drag him to the bed where I make him lie face down on it and sit down next to him so I can get a better look.  I gasp when I see it up close, for the area is swollen and angry red and covered with pus filled bumps.  The skin is hot to the touch and he hisses in pain when I lay a light finger on it. 

 

“Why did ye not tell me about this?”  I demand to know, though I am pretty sure I know the answer already.

 

His eyes are squeezed tightly shut when I look at him, but when I repeat the question, ‘why’ accompanied by a deep growl, he opens one, before attempting to appease me with an answer.

 

“W…well, it is just that it happened at night, you see,” he begins.  And, well I couldn’t tell you because…”

 

“Because ye were already too caught up in your quagmire of deception to think of a way to save your own skin?”  I finish for him. He closes his eyes again and simply nods

 

“Well it hasn’t worked,” I inform him landing a solid smack to the back of one bare thigh leaving a perfect handprint on the fair skin there.  He yelps and starts to leap up but I hold him in place and tell him, “Now, Elfling, I am going to find a healer and when I come back I had better find you right where you are meant to be. In other words: do not move!”

 

With that I rise to leave, but turn back to cover him with a light blanket first for I don’t know how long I will be and his hair is still damp after all. 

 

This time I find Lord Elrond is in residence and he is willing to come with me right away once I explain the circumstances. He asks me for a detailed description of the wound so that he will know what to bring along with him.  I wait as he gathers what he thinks he will need and become more than a little concerned when he packs a few long wicked looking needles, telling me that likely the infection will need to be lanced and drained.  I become even more worried on the trek back to our quarters when I remember Legolas’ reaction to my light touch. I cannot imagine how painful this procedure is going to be and by the time we arrive I am feeling rather sick over it.

 

I am relieved to find my charge just where I left him and I sit down beside him right away, telling him that I will remain right here with him the whole time.  I rub his back a bit as Lord Elrond lifts the blanket to expose the wound.  He is very businesslike, making clucking noises now and then, but otherwise making no comment at all.  When he announces that he intends to lance the wound, saying it is likely to be painful, I offer Legolas my hand to squeeze.  He hisses and grips my hand tightly as the needle opens the wound, but he nearly comes off the bed when Elrond gently squeezes the area to drain the pus.  The healer apologizes but just grips the lad’s ankle firmly and continues the task at hand.  By the time he has the wound, cleaned, packed with herbs and bandaged, Legolas is covered with a thin sheen of perspiration and my stomach is in knots in sympathy for his pain.

 

 I stroke Legolas’ damp hair as Lord Elrond talks directly to me, perhaps having given up on trying to talk sense into the elfling.  He tells me that lack of rest combined with the vestiges of the sea longing likely has Legolas’ natural healing ability out of kilter.  I am to keep him quiet until the wound is completely healed. He also leaves us with a supply of bandages and salve along with some pain relieving herbs and instructions on what to do with them. 

 

After we are left alone again, I look over my charge and shake my head over the condition he has managed to get himself in again.  As frustrated as I get with him at times it is really only because I want the best for him.  I know somewhere there is a reason why he has been behaving in such an erratic way and I think it is just about time to find out.

 

 

XXXX

When the door closes behind Gimli I breathe out a ragged breath. The pain in my leg is excruciating almost worse than the pain in my rump. Although I have been warned to remain where I am I decide to rise and swallow some of the herb mixture that the young healer left for me. It may work on both hot and swollen areas of my body I can only hope so.

 

I swallow a large amount of the mixture in the hope that it will numb any pain, then slip back under the blanket and await Gimli’s return. I am tired, but that is a natural reaction to my paddling. Such a punishment is both physically and emotionally draining and this one was particularly harsh. I do not mean that Gimli was cruel for he has never been so. His responses are  always measured and controlled but this time he was intentionally severe so that I receive the  message he wishes me to remember  it with clarity.

 

I sniff, for I am feeling somewhat sorry for myself, for almost as if the pain has beaten some lucidity into my disordered brain, I have finally realized that all my efforts have been wasted, for if I take into account the hours and days I have been kept back by Gimli they almost outweigh any of the work I have managed to do at night, and now of course I am losing more time. My stupidity knows no bounds it seems.

 

I want to weep but how would that benefit me? The reality is that I have to live with what is. I wanted to help Gimli come to terms with our life here; instead I have added to his grief and loss. I must accept that failure and do what I can to ensure he is not further hurt by my misguided actions.

 

Before long, Gimli will return and no doubt he will have Lord Elrond with him. Whatever I am expected to endure I will attempt to do it with a minimum of fuss even though experience tells me that the lancing of the wound will be very, very painful.

 

Ai!!

 

Why is it that I am always right about such things? Lord Elrond has lanced the lesion and put pressure on the injury in an attempt to clear the pus and to thus clear the wound of any infection.  The pain inflicted by this particular endeavor is all but indescribable. Were it not for Gimli’s strong arm I would have leapt from the bed. Fortunately I do not have to do so, for my dwarf’s strength is offered to me freely. He holds tight to my hand and offers words of comfort and solace. I know he wishes away any pain or distress I feel. 

 

I do not deserve such succor, yet I am pathetically grateful for the strength that gives me this support. Could he do so, Gimli would gladly accept any pain and discomfort that I am currently experiencing. How is it that he gives and gives and however hard I try I do nothing more than to cause him new pain?

 

He has traveled a road no other of his race has done. He has sacrificed more than any have a right to expect; yet he does not ask anything of me other than I recover and am well. I want to sob out my failings to acknowledge all he has done for me, but it seems all Gimli wants is my recovery.

 

If that is the case, then I must make every effort to get better…

 

After Lord Elrond has gone Gimli offers me another pain killing draught. I swallow it because I do not wish to add to his concerns even though I suspect the two draughts combined will render me unconscious long before I find the words to thank Gimli for his care and support...

 

Already the draughts are encouraging me to allow my thoughts to drift. My exhaustion creeps up upon my every attempt to acknowledge all of what I owe Gimli Gloinson. My eyes close of their own volition and I slip onto the path of dreams …

I can only pray that despite my inability to give voice to my gratitude Gimli will sense that I am truly sorry for all the pain I have inflicted upon him as I squeeze his hand tightly.

 

I sleep for some time and when I wake up, I am hot and uncomfortable. I feel heat, heat in my rear end, which is only to be expected given the lesson I have recently been taught, but where that pain is not only acceptable but almost welcome for it is proof that I have been forgiven my errors. But  it is another type of heat far worse than the outcome of a well-deserved thrashing that seems to be coursing through my blood. I wonder if the wound has turned septic, although it hardly seems likely since Lord Elrond took such care over it. I turn my head and see Gimli still sitting by the bed. He is sleeping and I will not wake him but try and sleep again myself.  Perhaps when I wake next the pain will be lessened.

 

I step onto the path of dreams but my worries and fears follow me there. I see again Gimli’s journal and the words he had written there of his pain and feelings of loss at all he has given up for me.

 

I begin to toss and turn, calling out how sorry I am, how I wish I had, had more strength to endure in Middle Earth, how I regret my inability to help him, how all I do turns to disaster.

 

Dimly I hear Gimli calling my name and begging me to be calm. “All is well Lamb,” he says but how can all be well when I have brought him to this?

 

He is asking me questions but I seem unable to answer them only repeating again and again, how sorry I am.

 

“Sorry for what Lamb?”

 

Gimli shakes my arm gently trying to get my attention but I continue to thrash about and weep. He leaves me briefly hurrying to the door and calling out for someone to summon Lord Elrond immediately.  When he returns I cling to his hand like a sailor adrift on a stormy sea. I can see how worried he is and this only adds to my guilt.

 

“Tell me what it is you are sorry for Lamb,” He pleads

 

I shake my head and can tell he is about to ask again when he is distracted by the arrival of Lord Elrond who hurries to my side and begins his examination, first checking on the wound and then frowning as he realizes that is not the cause of my fever.

 

He peers into my eyes and then turns to Gimli, “How much of the pain relief draught did you administer?”

 

“Only what you recommended,” He replies, “Why?”

 

“It is almost as if he has been overdosed on the herb mixture, yet if you only administered what was needful he should not have reacted as he is.  Could you bring me the remainder of the draught?”

 

Gimli crosses the room and opens the clothes press where he must have placed the medications and brings them all back so Elrond can examine them.

 

I lie back and close my eyes, for I feel sick and dizzy, and their voices seem to drift in and out.

 

“Legolas? Legolas!” That is Elrond and he is using a tone I recognize as that of a healer who wants answers. I open my eyes and see he is holding up the flask that the young healer left for me.  “Have you taken any of this?”

 

I blink at him and then nod wearily,

 

“When did you take it? Legolas this is important. When did you take it?”

 

“I want to sleep.”

 

“I know you do, but first we need to know when you took this draught.”

 

My mind seems full of cotton, but eventually I manage, “earlier, when Gimli went to find you. I just took a swallow or two.”

 

“And then you took the draught I left as well?” even in my current state I know that the raised eyebrows are a bad sign but since there is no point in denying it I nod.

 

“Ai, elfling!” he shakes his head at me even while smiling reassuringly at my anxious guardian. “Well that explains what is wrong Master Gimli. The two herbs together are causing fever and deliria. The only thing to do is let it work itself out of his system. The symptoms will subside in time, and he will then likely sleep for some hours. Do you wish me to send someone to sit with him while you rest?”

 

“No I will sit with the laddie. He is my concern and charge, and I wouldn’a feel happy leaving him as he is. “

 

“I thought that would be your response,” Elrond tells him, before turning back to me and frowning, “You are fortunate indeed in your guardian young Legolas, more so than you deserve I think. Try to sleep now and I will be back to check on you both later.”

 

As he departs Gimli brings his chair closer to the bed, and begins to bathe my face and hands for me. “Eh, lamb, you gave me quite a scare there, whatever were you thinking? Aye and what is all this about being sorry? Ye have paid for your foolishness and all is forgiven. There is no need for this distress.”

I cannot meet his eyes and turn away, for my guilt is hanging even heavier than before. Lord Elrond spoke only the truth; I am more fortunate than I deserve.

 

“Laddie” Gimli turns my head back towards himself. “Whatever is wrong?  You know you can tell me anything. I will do anything for ye. Anything at all in my power to make you happy.”

 

“I know,” I answer, tears coming to my eyes, as his simple words twist the knife in my heart, for I know exactly what he has given up for me.

 

“Lamb, dinna cry. I canna help ye if ye don’t tell me what is amiss.”

 

I see that my silence is only adding to his distress and so I finally break down and whisper “Your journal, I read your journal I am sorry, so sorry … I made you come here. Sorry that you have lost all that you love. I know my words cannot bring all that back but believe me I am not only sorry but very, very grateful for all you have given up to be here with me undeserving as I am.”

 

Unable to bear the pain I am sure I will see in his face at this disclosure I close my eyes and weep.

 

 

xxxx

 

I breathe a sigh of relief and bring my chair closer to Legolas’ bed where I take a damp towel and wipe the perspiration from his brow.  I am relieved to find out that it is only an overdose of medication causing his fever rather than it being the result of the infected wound.  All we must do is wait it out now, but I still despair over calming his distressful thoughts enough to allow him to relax into sleep.  Before I summoned Lord Elrond, Legolas had been tossing about and speaking incoherently about being sorry and wishing he had been stronger. I recognize this as delirious rambling but the words are too familiar to be just the consequences of a hallucination.

 

 We have had many conversations about  this topic and the fact that his needing to leave Middle Earth had nothing to do with strength and everything to do with not being able to triumph over nature.  Denying the call had become rather like trying to push an avalanche up hill, something that cannot be done nor should even be attempted.  I have also had to reassure him many times that there is no reason to feel sorry for my coming with him for it was my choice and one that I made gladly and do not regret.  I had believed that he fully understood all that now, but I am beginning to wonder if I was wrong.  Either that or something has occurred to bring it back to the front of his mind.  Or perhaps he is suffering guilt over the events of this morning, but that also is completely unnecessary for it has already been taken care of and forgiven.  I do not believe in holding grudges and truly believed he knew that by now. Whatever it is I wish to know it so I can ease his troubled mind.

 

When I tell him as much he only glances at me briefly with fever-bright eyes and then turns away as if ashamed to face me.  I take his face between my hands and turn it back toward me, for I am determined to find out what the trouble is.

 

 

“Laddie, whatever is wrong? You know you can tell me anything. I will do anything for ye. Anything at all in my power to make you happy.”

 

These words meant to offer comfort cause tears to well up and spill over, which is not the effect I had hoped for.  “I know,” he says, sounding as if his heart is breaking at that thought.  I beg him not to cry, beg him to tell me what is amiss and finally, finally he does so.

 

“Your journal,” he chokes out in a whisper, “ I read your journal I am sorry, so sorry … I made you come here. Sorry that you have lost all that you love, I know my words cannot bring all that back but believe me I am not only sorry but very, very grateful for all you have given up to be here with me undeserving as I am.”

 

With that he begins weeping in earnest. I take him in my arms as I try to figure out the full meaning of what he is saying to me. He should not have been reading what was meant to be private, but that doesn’t matter to me now.  But for the life of me I cannot figure out how reading my journal could cause him so much anguish.  I mean to find out in time but for now I can see that he is no shape for discussing such things.  He is burning with fever and exhausted so I focus on the most important issues until he seems to understand enough to relax into slumber.    

 

“Ye are not undeserving of my care, Child, never say that.  And I have not lost all that I love have I?  How could it be so when the one I love most is right here beside me?”  I brush the hair back from his face and kiss his too warm brow.  “Let go of your worries now, Lamb, and trust me.  All will be well, I   promise.” 

 

I continue speaking soft reassurances until the tears finally stop and he goes limp in my arms.  I wait until I am certain he is sleeping soundly and then transfer him from my arms back onto the pillows.  Thankfully he seems to be resting more peacefully now and I hope the worst is over.  Now is my chance to take a look at my journal and see if I can decipher what he found in it that was so upsetting.  Leaving his bedchamber door open, I fetch the journal and sit down at the table to take a look.

 

Right away I notice a page dated for a little over a week ago that has some things that taken out of context might sound different from how I meant them.

 

 

Lord Elrond has been an excellent host, but I for one shall be happy to have a home of my own again for living so long as a guest becomes tiresome for everyone involved.   

 

Is this why he has been working day and night?  Was he doing this so I could have this wish fulfilled that much sooner.  It is a sweet and thoughtful gesture and a home of our own will be wonderful, but not at the expense of his health.  Reading on I find some more things that could be misunderstood.

 

_Do my people think of me often as I think of them?  Is there someone to tend the graves of Lord Gloin and Lady Vonild now that I am not there to see to it?_

 

_How strange to think that I will never in this lifetime see another of my own kind or speak my mother tongue again, for while Legolas can speak passing Khuzdul, there really is no need for it here in this land of people not my own._

Well that explains the sudden interest in learning Khuzdul and also explains why he is  worried again about my coming here with him. I recall the day I wrote this and left the page to dry while I left our chambers to find the roofing plans.  He must have read this and jumped to the conclusion that I was miserable with my life here and rather than coming to me and asking me about it, he let it grow in his mind and made himself miserable over it.  I t is quite a typical response from my impulsive elfling.  It is a shame he didn’t bother to go ahead and read the next part, for it would have eased his mind and prevented him a great deal of bother. 

 

_And yet whatever I have given up by leaving Middle Earth has been repaid to me a thousandfold by the privilege of being allowed to spend my final days in the company of the one dearest to me in this rich and beautiful land.  My Lamb may never know how I used to miss him when we were apart, sometimes for months or even years at a time.  To know we need no longer be apart for as long as I live is a source of great joy and comfort to me.  The Valar have given me the opportunity to have what very well may be the grandest adventure of my life._

_I couldn’t wish for anything more, unless it was to hope that Legolas will recover and learn to thrive here.  He has dedicated most of his life so far to serving others-sacrificed the better part of his youth-and nothing would make me happier than to see him have the chance to enjoy what has been offered us to the full.  No one deserves it more._

The few entries that I have entered beyond that deal with the progress being made on the house and my increasing concerns over my elfling’s health. Thank goodness he decided to confess for I would have never figured out what was going on in that head of his.  I mark the page and return to sit with my friend. 

 

As predicted, Legolas sleeps for several hours and when he does finally awaken looks like he has been put away wet.  His eyes are still bloodshot and swollen and his hair is a disordered mess.  He does not return my smile but only looks down when I speak.

 

“Are ye feeling better now Lamb?”

 

Instead of answering my question he launches in to another apology before I have a chance to reassure him.

 

“Elvellon, I am so sorry to have made such a mess of things as usual.  I only wanted to make you happy and instead I just gave you more cause to worry. My stupidity knows no bounds it seems.”  He rattles on more about his failings before adding the usual litany.  “I can never repay you for all you’ve done.  I am more fortunate than I deserve…”

 

I place a finger on his lips to stanch the flow of hateful words for we have been over this before. 

 

“Do not say it, Laddie.  There is nothing for ye to repay me and ye more than deserve my care.”

 

“But even Lord Elrond agreed…”

 

“Bah!  Elrond may be one of the greatest healers of all time and he has been a generous host, but he can full of hot air at times.  Pay no mind to such nonsense.” I tell him, chuckling, as his eyes grow wide at my saying such an irreverent thing about our host. He recovers quickly and continues with his rant.

 

“But I have made you miserable by making you leave all that you love to…”

 

“Legolas!” 

He stops in mid tirade and looks at me expectantly.

 

“Yes?” he says rather tentatively.

 

“Shall we go over this again?”

 

He shakes his head vigorously, “No. No thank you Gimli.”

 

I cannot help the laughter that escapes my throat. Perhaps he is concerned over what ‘going over this again’ might entail.

 

 “Let me rephrase that,” I say.  “For it wasn’t meant to be a question. We shall go over this again.  Did you make me come here Elfling?”

 

He shakes his head, still looking down at his hands.

 

“Good Lad!” I praise, lifting his chin so he must look at me to answer the next question.  “Then why am I here?”

 

“Because you want to be here,” he whispers.

 

“That is right. And if ye ever feel ye have reason to suspect otherwise I want ye to just ask me about it rather than worrying over it.   Is that clear?”

 

“Yes Gimli.”

 

“Very good, then.  Now I have something I want to show you.”   I take the journal and open it to the correct page and place it directly in his hands. 

 

 

 

XXXX

 

I wake after a long and dreamless sleep. I should feel refreshed, but instead I feel wrung out, exhausted, heart sore.

What makes me feel all the worse is the concern in Gimli’s voice as he asks if I feeling better.

 

The simple answer to that is no, I attempt another apology which he silences by placing a calloused finger to my lips.

 

“Do not say it, Laddie.” He warns me “There is nothing for ye to repay me and ye more than deserve my care.”

 

“But even Lord Elrond agreed…” I begin again recalling Elrond’s words that I was more fortunate than I deserved. I am surprised when Gimli tells me to pay no mind to such nonsense. My dwarf seems unimpressed, saying that the revered lord is full of hot air at times. I could almost laugh save that the situation is too serious.

 

“But I have made you miserable by making you leave all that you love to…”

 

“Legolas!”  

 

The tone alone is sufficient to pull me up short cutting off my attempts to apologize. Gimli’s patience is at an end it appears. I answer cautiously, not wishing to further annoy him.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Shall we go over this again?” he asks

 

I have no desire to revisit my latest trip over his knee. I am sore enough as it is, so I shake my head and reply hurriedly, “No. No thank you Gimli.”

 

To my surprise he laughs.  “Let me rephrase that, for it wasn’t meant to be a question. We shall go over this again.”

 

I swallow hard at this threat, and await my judgment. Instead Gimli queries

 

“Did you make me come here Elfling?”

 

I cannot bring myself to look at him, so although I know in my heart that Gimli only traveled here because of me, I shake my head, wondering while I do so just where this line of questioning can be taking us.

 

I find my chin being lifted and instead of a scowl I see Gimli is smiling, and asking me to tell him why he is here then.

 

Again I know how he wishes me to answer, for we have spoken of this before, but that was before I saw the entries in his journal and realized my worst fears were true. Yet I answer as he wants me to .

 

 “Because you want to be.”

 

Despite my words my doubts must show in my face for he tells me quite sternly that in the future rather than worrying needlessly I should just speak of my concerns. I promise to do so for it is clear that is what he wants me to say, so I am startled when after I have given this promise he places his opened journal in my lap and bids me read.

 

 

I recognise the words and do not want to read them again. I look up at him pleadingly but he points again at the page and orders, “Read it out loud Lamb.”

 

My voice cracks as I read the passage… for to hear those sad words spoken seems to me to make them even more painful and by the time I get to _here in this land of people not my own._ My tears are falling again. I look up hoping for a reprieve but Gimli merely points to the page and I continue, and can hardly believe my own ears as I do so.

_And yet whatever I have given up by leaving Middle Earth has been repaid to me a thousand fold by the privilege of being allowed to spend my final days in the company of the one dearest to me in this rich and beautiful land._

“Gimli,” I look up at my friend in amazement but he urges me to continue reading and I do, joy now replacing pain.

 

_My Lamb may never know how I used to miss him when we were apart, sometimes for months or even years at a time.  To know we need no longer be apart for as long as I live is a source of great joy and comfort to me.  The Valar have given me the opportunity to have what very well may be the grandest adventure of my life._

“You do wish to be here!” I say wonderingly.

 

“Did I not say so ye foolish child? Sometimes I think there is naught but air between those pointed ears of yours.  Read on then.”

 

_I couldn’t wish for anything more, unless it was to hope that Legolas will recover and learn to thrive here.  He has dedicated most of his life so far to serving others-sacrificed the better part of his youth-and nothing would make me happier than to see him have the chance to enjoy what has been offered us to the full.  No one deserves it more._

 

Tears come anew.  What have I ever done to deserve such a friend, and such a guardian? I fling myself into his arms, not caring about the pain that the sudden movement causes in my leg.

 

“I missed you too when we were kept apart by our duties,” I tell him shyly, “the fact we would be together was one of the things whatever transpired that granted me the strength to begin the journey. Do you really think this will be a grand adventure?”

 

“With you in my care can it be anything else Lamb.”

 

He laughs and I laugh with him, for suddenly my life seems worth living once more and while I do not necessarily agree with his last sentence as to my deserving to enjoy my life here, I promise myself I will do my best to do so for his sake as much as for myself.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
